


Closer

by Moiself



Series: The Adventures of Brat & Sparkles [3]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Bottom Chris, Brat and Sparkles, Hotel Sex, Jeribrose, M/M, Riding, Smut, Some feels in there, Top Dean, striptease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 18:12:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4147803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moiself/pseuds/Moiself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little bit of Jeribrose smut. </p><p>Chris owes Dean a forfeit and he's going to pay up tonight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closer

Dean pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, glad that their schedules had brought them within driving distance of each other. It didn't happen as often as they would have liked, but any time it did, they never wasted the opportunity to spend the night in the same bed. There was a time to think about why that might be, but it wasn't right now. 

Finding a spot, he parked up and checked the text Chris had sent him earlier. _Room 218. Forfeit time baby xxx._

This should be fun.

Smirking to himself at the recollection of how he'd earned this, he shouldered his bag and, cap pulled low, entered the lobby, making straight for the elevator. It was getting harder and harder these days to go unrecognised, but he made it to the door of room 218 without getting rumbled.

He paused for a second before knocking on the door. Totally only to double check he was at the right room. Not at all to calm down the excitement he felt at seeing Sparkles again or tone down the beaming grin splitting his face into something more nonchalant.  

Satisfied everything was under control, he knocked. Almost instantly the door opened and there he was, his....his....ah fuck. Whatever he was, there he was anyway. Dean gratefully took the proffered bottle of beer from Chris's hand and drained half of it in one gulp before he set foot through the door.

"Have a seat..."

Chris practically purred at him as he moved just enough to allow Dean space to squeeze past into the dimly lit room. He stifled a chuckle as he noticed the bedside lamps had each been draped with one of Chris's flimsier scarves to create a certain kind of ambiance.

"Mood lighting, eh Sparkles?"

Turning back to face the door he almost dropped his bottle of beer. He'd been a little too distracted by his pesky inner ramblings to notice what Chris was wearing when he answered his knock.

"Holy fucking hellfire! You been in touch with Shawn lately?"

Chaps. The man in front of him was wearing chaps, black leather chaps. With a matching vest. And sweet God in heaven, something glittery and shiny and so very Sparkles was just about managing to contain his cock.

Chris smirked back at him and shrugged.

"If you're gonna do something, do it right. Now are you gonna sit down or what?"

Not wanting to take his eyes off the sight in front of him for a second, Dean shrugged off his jacket and felt behind him for the edge of the bed.

"I'm sittin'. I'm sittin'!"

Dean leaned back and waited.

Chris reached over to the table beside the door and tapped his phone. The sound of a filthy beat filled the room as Sparkles threw his head back, sliding up and down the door seductively in a more than passable impersonation of a saloon girl. Slowly pushing away as the lyrics kicked in, he deliberately began to make his way across to where Dean was sitting.

      _You let me violate you._

_You let me desecrate you_

This wasn't his usual casual saunter, or even his distinctive entrance walk. This was languid, sensual, absolutely laden with promises. For a second Dean felt like prey being stalked. He liked it.

Chris stopped his approach just short of where Dean was sitting. As if on automatic pilot he sat forward and reached out with his free hand, aiming to settle it on Chris's thigh. His hand was slapped away...

"Nuh-uh. No touching."

Dean drew back his hand and rubbed it across his face, then rested it on his lap. He stayed on the edge of his seat as the gorgeous creature in front of him began gyrating to the music, working his way down the buttons of the vest he wore. Reaching the last, he grabbed the edges and flung it open with a flourish.

From the subtle gleam of his bare torso, Dean could see that he'd gone all out and oiled himself up, but before he had a chance to be tempted to reach out and touch again, Chris spun on his heel, turning his back to Dean for the first time since he arrived.

"Fuuuuuuuuuck."

With his arms stretched out and legs spread in his signature pose, Chris smirked at Dean's reaction to the full glory of his costume. The thong had definitely been the right choice.

As he shucked off the vest he glanced over his shoulder and grinned wickedly at the younger man.

"Told you baby, if you're gonna do it, do it right. Go hard or go home."

"Going fuckin' hard all right..."

With every thrust, every swivel of his hips, and fuck, every clench of his ass, Chris was getting Dean more and more tightly wound. His teasing movements brought him closer to Dean, closer, but never quite close enough.

_Help me_

_Tear down my reason_

_Help me_

_It's your sex I can smell_

Never dropping eye contact with his lover, Chris grabbed a fistful of leather from each thigh and yanked. A groan escaped from Dean’s lips as the rip away chaps vanished leaving the older man in just the sparkly thong and his boots. He licked his lips in appreciation and made a mental note to buy DDP a beer next time saw him.

Chris insinuated himself closer and never ceasing moving to the rhythm, leaned across and took the beer bottle from where it had been forgotten in Dean’s hand. Turning away from him again, he bent over and set it down, giving Dean a perfect view of his glorious ass.

Dean squirmed as his cock twitched in his jeans.

Facing his Brat once more, Chris sashayed closer still, then fell to his knees between Dean's spread legs. His hands traced a slow path up the outside of those long denim clad limbs, meeting at his belt buckle and making short work of opening it. His mouth caught up and joined in the efforts, popping open the button of Dean's fly and with a smirk up at the face he was so fond of Chris took the zipper between his teeth and tugged it down.

Dean sighed as the pressure of the tight denim was replaced with the more welcome pressure of the kneeling man's mouth. Nuzzling at his erection through the fabric of his boxers, mouthing over the hardness, his wet tongue adding to the damp spot already there.

 As Dean lost the battle with himself to stick to the no touching rule his hands came up to cradle Chris’s head. Not holding him in place, just making contact. He was saved from thinking about why that felt so good by the distraction of Chris easing his dick out of his underwear and taking him into his mouth. He drew him in deep, his tongue tracing a wicked teasing swirl up and down his Brat’s length. Pulling off with a wet pop, Chris glided up Dean’s body, finally moving in for a brief, hungry kiss.

His still covered cock rubbed against Dean’s bare one, reminding both men that there was still one item left to remove. With a grin, Chris stood back up.

“You want to help me with this?”

Dean reached out to hook the side of the thong, only to find his hand batted away.

“Nuh-uh Brat. With your teeth.”

Correctly surmising that Chris might have picked up the thong the same place he got the chaps, Dean nipped the glittery fabric between his teeth and pulled. At last Chris was before him in all his naked glory. Save for his boots.

He moved to toe them off.

“Leave em on.”

Dean held the older man by the waist and pulled him towards him, stopping only once he was straddling his lap.

Dipping down into his right boot, Chris fished out a condom and with quick deft movements, tore open the packet and rolled it onto Dean’s hard shaft. Rising up on his knees, he lined Dean’s cock up with his entrance and in one swift smooth movement sank down, taking him in as deep as he would go. Dean’s eyes flew wide. With Chris, it wasn’t often that he was the one topping. Not often at all.

“Fuck! Sparkles!”

“It’s ok Brat, I had plenty of time to get ready while I was waiting for you to get here.”

Roughly, he pushed Dean back so he was lying flat on the bed and began to ride his cock, Dean mirrored the rhythm, thrusting up to meet Chris’s downward slams and gripping his hips tightly for purchase. Fuelled by lust and egged on by the tempo of the almost forgotten music, now on a loop, the pace was fiendish. They were colliding, attempting to fuse with each other as if they’d been apart for ten months, ten years even, not ten days. Dean pulled his legs up off the floor and planted his feet on the bed to get better leverage, the new angle increasing the friction of his cockhead on Chris’s prostate.

Pushed closer to the edge by the fresh assault on his pleasure spot, Chris’s fist went to his own cock, quickly joined by one of Dean’s, their joined hands matching the rhythm of Brat’s thrusts.

“With me, Sparkles...with me.”

Dean’s voice was a breathy growl as he came, riding out his orgasm with a few final shuddering snaps. Touching the very core of Chris’s being, it pulled his own release from him, shooting creamy ribbons of cum over their joined hands and all over Dean’s shirt.

With no concern for the mess, Chris allowed gravity to take him forward until he was resting on his lover’s chest. Dean’s arms wrapped round him, drawing him closer still.

There was a time to think about why that felt as good as having Chris strip for him and ride his cock.

He couldn’t hide from it anymore. Looked like that time was now.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Not initially inspired by the Nine Inch Nails song of the same name, but it helped fuel it and it is the song Chris strips to.
> 
> Takes place between Night of Champions 2014 and the November European tour.


End file.
